Christmas Spirit(s)

Mary Lynn and I went to Sudbury to do some Christmas shopping. In my case it was Christmas looking. I do much better when the deadline is in sight and I must get it done. This is contra to my OCD issues about flying. About most everything else I am quite willing to procrastinate. I have made more than one last minute Christmas eve trip to Sudbury to MMA my way to cash…

This particular Sunday the Christmas spirit was evident everywhere; store staff who would rather be anywhere else and were rude. They would be better served with simply ignoring customers than opening their mouths and frothing venom, albeit Christmas venom. Being of Irish descent, a sailor and a former hockey coach of adults I am quite adept at returning venom and upping the ante with a dash of obscenity.

I did stop by where Santa Claus was working. He seemed really full of the Christmas Spirit. The smile was phoney and shallow. His Ho Ho Ho could easily have been related to his date after work. He was in the uniform but not the spirit. I saw the spirit in the eyes of the kids who either ran, were pushed or dragged to his waiting knee…

I was waiting for Mary Lynn’s return from being lost. Whenever she is lost in the mall I go to the area beside the lottery ticket place and she can find her way back. She insists that it is me that is usually lost but I’m not fooled. I may move the rally point to beside the nail painting shop, the fumes are kinda interesting.

Then I saw a young lady with four small kids. They were all either talking, screaming or fighting or in various combinations all three… She was maintaining her composure with almost heroic focus on steering her little mass of humanity through the mall. I hoped that their outing was to acquire a gift for the father unit. (I hope there is one residing with them). I was thinking pepper spray and Tasers and she was thinking ahead to Christmas morning and the joy on the faces of her offspring. Ya right!

A couple of her kids side swiped me and the mother insisted that they apologize. They looked at me with Christmas spirit vacant expressions as if I was a dog turd stuck to their shoe… Then without so much as a grunt they moved on. The mother said she was sorry to which I replied “Merry Christmas”. I tried to keep the cynical tone from my voice, but she nodded slowly  and wearily and followed in-step with the tumult she was with.

I guess the mall is not a place to find any variant of the Christmas spirit.

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